The U.S. Bureau of Fabulous Bitches



Protecting American Interests At Home and Abroad

Responsible for the regulation and licensing of fabulous bitches and their security worldwide. Internet culture consultant, pop culture geek, and technology commentator. Also an expert on the "Land Before Time" series.



-BUREAU APPROVED LINKS-
Allie Pape
SpreadToothin
Rachel Popkin
Diana Kimball
Mako
Oliver Day
Dave Fisher
ROFLCon
TimDiana.com
This Shit Is Bananas
Carrie Andersen
Alex Leavitt
Jeremy Middleman
Style Rookie
Rachel Mercer


-OTHER WAYS OF CONTACTING THE BUREAU-
Twitter
Facebook
Flickr
Linked In
Upcoming
Pownce

(photo courtesy Dave Fisher)
Thu Oct 30

Maslow’s Organizational Hierarchy of Needs?

Ah, the hierarchy of needs, that wonderful bit of soft loosey-goosey personality theory, basically that you need the stuff lower down on the ladder to get the stuff higher up.

Actually been thinking that you might actually be able to apply this kind of needs ranking to organizations, groups, and businesses — that is, aggregate social structures — than just to individuals.

Comments (View)

The LBT Project: Not Dead, Merely Sleeping

No worries kids, this is just a note that the LBT project is far from extinct. Merely sleeping. Our staff over at the USBFB has been furiously examining the record for LBT III: The Time of Great Giving, and has been drafting a well-researched post. As usual, there will be delayz.

Comments (View)
Wed Oct 29

Feature: Tim Hwang Drinks The Entire Berkman Coffee Supply For You

Since becoming a newly-minted full time employee of the Berkman Center for Internets and Society, I’ve become obsessed with the fascinatingly ungreen and terrifyingly advanced Keurig brand line of products that dispense coffee from those plastic containers that I can only assume are filled with magical pixie dust. Luckily, Berkman boasts a huge number of flavors, and I figured that it’s obvious for self-enrichment purposes to get around to tasting them all. The copy is reliably awesome, and the flavors virtually (?) indistinguishable. USBFB features our commentary, reviews, and incisive analysis every Tuesday until we’re exhausted. No coffee left behind. Previously: Espresso Blend, Hazelnut, and Italian Roast.

Another banner day of forging ahead for the USBFB! This week: KONA BLEND.

It’s really unclear what to expect out of this particular Keurig coffee pod offering. Granted, the hokey tiki-torch lettering and bamboo backdrop suggest something tropical and exotic to the untrained eye. But for the truly inquiring creative professional serious about making the choice that signals “promotion material lol” to the boss, the Tully’s company is completely uninformative here.

First, of course, is the name. Kona? Our Bureau had to deploy some information technology: unless you’re a absolute coffee dweeb, you probably don’t know that Kona refers to coffee grown in a particular district on the Big Island of Hawaii, and can’t be legally called that unless it’s actually 100% made of beans grown there. But even if you already knew that (bully for you), it’s still pretty vague: “Kona Blend” refers to a watered down version of that supposedly wonderful beverage which, according to the Wikipedia article, implies that the pods are made up of something like 10% of actual Kona beans. Which is a little disingenuous, like calling Cambridge, Massachusetts, “Republican Blend.”

The cracked out flavor slider is equally problematic: “BALANCED.”

“I mean, like somewhere at the midpoint between ‘Spirited’ and ‘Grand,’” the label seems to say unhelpfully.

And to top it off, the marketing department decided inexplicably to spend most of the label’s real estate to describe the flavor simply as “Island Coffee.” Which, to say the least, seems pretty broad. “Where do you want to go for vacation?” “Oh, you know, how about the island?”

All of this is a long way of saying that when I put a Kona Blend pod, it is a massive leap into the unknown. It’s impossible to know what to expect. Good? Bad? Excellent? Terrible?

And, having had a cup. And then another. And another. I still don’t, despite the jitters.

The standard haiku-style label promises “FLORAL. COCOA. SMOOTH.” There are accurate, insofar as they mean “unidentifably bitter.” Like a can of Dr. Pepper, I’m at a total loss to identify the flavors here, except that it all ends up tasting like coffee. The effect gets more pronounced as the coffee cools — as it enters comfortable lukewarmness, Kona Blend starts tasting, well, like politely bitter brown water.

But like the extremely attractive stranger who later turns out to be a totally boring hack, the fragrance is right. It seems like some good, classic, traditional honest-to-god American family values Island Coffee. It has scents of hickory and chocolate, with the tangy citrus undercurrents of a floral bloom. It even smells smooth.

Predictably, the coffee is dark brown colored. Well, actually, I take that back. Kind of brownish-black. Or, more like blackish-brown. It kind of depends on what light and emotional state you’re under I guess.

In terms of finish, this coffee goes out as quietly as it came. Within 30 minutes, there’s just a light smoky flavor in the back of your throat. And within the hour, it’s like you never had any coffee at all. It’s spooky.

Rating: B. Truly the most ferociously medicore cup of joe ever devised.

Comments (View)
Mon Oct 27

Instant(er) Nostalgia

So, finally got around to seeing Oliver Stone’s George Bush biopic W. while I was in San Francisco a week or so ago with Altay, Allie and Chris.

Despite my greatest hopes, the movie’s mostly meh from beginning to end — which is sad, considering how awesome the source material is. The script is disjointed, the writing is flat, and the movie drags about 2/3rds the way in. The flat parody of Condi Rice as a yes-woman with a funny voice wears thin after the umpteenth use. Probably the real saving grace is the badass performance of Josh Brolin, who totally hits the uncanny valley with his role as El Presidente.

But really, what W. ends up being, with the film’s many references and ironic gestures at our hindsight on the consequences of the decisions of Bush administration, is a nostalgia trip. It’s Best of Bushisms 2000-2008. It’s a walk down memory lane. The fond chuckles of the audience everytime Brolin breaks out a “misunderestimate” or replays for us the “Mission Accomplished” scene reflects a sense that even things that transpired less than 5 years ago are safely in the realm of “Man, remember the time that…”

But, in the bigger pop culture context, the real interesting question here is: how close can nostalgia come?

There’s an unoriginal point to be made here. It’s been commented time and time again by people more famous than Our Bureau that the massive success of VH1’s I Love the 80s, and then with I Love the 90s, seem to indicate that the latency period between which a piece of pop culture is new and the point at which stuff enters the nostalgia-verse and becomes considered “old school” is getting shorter. We’re long ways away from the times when we used to yearn for a pastoral past there was no way for anyone to have actually experienced. Most people have directed experienced what they’re nostalgic about nowadays — it happened only a little while ago.

Granted, these staples of the VH1 broadcast lineup don’t define the extreme limits of cultural nostalgia. Indeed, internet culture mostly outpaces this decade mark of “oldness” regularly. Web 1.0 culture from a decade ago is safely, utterly retro chic now. And, as the fires of rickrolling burn themselves out and LOLCat-dom becomes an institution, the original I Can Haz Cheezburger image inspires flurries of remembrances from geeks everywhere.

With the groundbreaking work of Best Week Ever, we know that, at the most extreme, the nostalgia frontier sits nowadays at about the seven day level. With the proper video editing and subject matter, people will sit down and listen to famous people recount lovingly what happened less than a few days ago.

Most people find this shocking. But truth is, it’s only doing pretty good. We could be doing much better.

Could we push it to the day? Or to the hour? Or to the minute? How small can we make the distance between t and t+1 ?

One medium that’s been a huge centerpiece in the narrowing of nostalgia is the increasing availability of on-demand personal product creation. The ability for any old Joe the Blogger off the street to get his or her own custom t-shirt/mug/lunchbox/custom postage hugely raised the possibility of capturing Flavor of the Week fads and selling them for fun and profit. Sure this has always kind of happened (cf sports game schwag), but technology makes it a larger and broader phenomenon.

But even then, the turnover is still about a week. You’ve got to wait for your nostalgia. And lord knows we hate to wait in these trying times. What if the financial crisis resolves itself in the time it take me to get my jokey t-shirt? What if my astute political gaffe caption becomes irrelevant? What if people forget about the in-joke that we talked about this morning? It’s the risk associated with creating something and waiting for it that long that prevents us from making nostalgia items about things shorter and more temporary than a week. The higher the speed people can create/receive items that reference the past, the shorter the nostalgia period will become. That’s the only way to shatter into the upper limits. No doubt as companies like Zazzle and Cafe Press get better at order fulfillment, we’ll see ourselves hitting that zone. I think as the mainstream broadcast cycle gets tighter, we’ll also see this mental frontier get closer to the present.

But until then, I’m thinking the bold leap into the future will be DIYing it with iron-ons and a bunch of blank t-shirts. I want to be able to be living my life and then come back an hour later with a shirt that says, “Remember That Time Tim Totally Had That Breakfast Sandwich With Egg and Cheese” and with the date and time small in the bottom-right corner.

Or, “Remember That Time We Were Talking About The Election This Morning.”

The cool thing is that they reference something so incredibly tied to a time and place that they’ll become vintage almost instantly. Perfect.

Comments (View)
Thu Oct 23

Boston Tech, Meet The Information Superhighway

So if you find yourself in Boston this Friday, The United States Bureau of Fabulous Bitches is throwing Information Superhighway One, the first what will become an ongoing series of Boston general geekery parties. Thanks to the generosity of some amazing organizations, it’s happening the amazing new offices of the Berkman Center for Internet and Society and PRX over in Cambridge. The featured guest list includes some kickass local tech notables, including podcast genius Steve Garfield, Jon Pierce from Betahouse, and Jonathan Zittrain from the Berks. It’ll be super casual. Come and leave whenever. We’ll just be around, chillin’.

And best of all, it’s retro Web 1.0 themed too — so come out in your mid-/late-nineties defunct web company finest. And seriously, extra points if you rock the Bill Gates look from the cover of “The Road Ahead,” I’m going to buy you as many drinks as you want.

I’m thinking in the future we’ll need to get some Compuserve Disks, Interactive CD-ROMs or Zip Disks that’ll come with the event. At this point, I’m just printing up big posters of Steve Case — which, truth be told, is way slower and more difficult than you’d think.

And So, A Little About What This Is All For:

Like most awesome nerds that labor in shy obscurity, Boston Tech needs to come out and get some friends.

Oh sure, there’s all the usual cool people that you’d expect from the usual geeky town with a happening tech sector. Hackers, science geeks, hardware gurus, DIY kids, non-profit people, academics, startups, artists, VCs, designers, “new media,” designers, free-software warriors, activists, webcomic people, bloggers, and the usual rapscallion riff-raff.

Problem is these communities are strongly strongly siloed in Boston. They’re clustered tightly in their own sectors and there aren’t many social connections bridging people working on different projects and in different arenas of the tech world. Which is lame. Because people are awesome.

Social events are an awesome tool for this sort of thing. And don’t get me wrong — it’s not like there’s no tech events going on in Boston. To say that would be almost hilariously wrong. There’s plenty going on. They’ve just tended to occur irregularly, be too narrowly focused, or be broadly advertised enough. (huge, huge admiring kudos to those who do exist and avoid these problems though, however, like Boston Media Makers, Web Inno, and Jelly).

However, even among the few successful ones, they’ve also been hindered by the physical constraints on public space in the Boston/Cambridge area: public transportation quickly closes down after midnight, the only large accessible open spaces are loud cramped bars, creepy dudes, you name it.

Also, many attempts at this sort of thing have tended to frame these events in terms of “networking” events, which, in addition to being sort of forced, misses the more important point: communities aren’t bound together by furiously trading business cards in a loud club and then robotically following up with an e-mail, they’re bound together by sharing a common culture, throwing around schemes, and just generally hanging out.

So, in the end, the landscape as it stands: atomized, independent tribes of tech people. A veritable hunter-gatherer social desert — filled mostly with environments where opportunities for cooperation are constantly being missed. Ships passing in the dark.

And, the landscape as it could stand: a more dynamic, collaborative, linked, cross-cutting community of tech people. Doing awesome stuff. And kicking ass.

Needless to say, I’m a big advocate of the latter. With any hope, Information Superhighway is an experiment in creating that kind of platform where these things can happen. Fingers crossed…

Comments (View)
Tue Oct 21

Feature: Tim Hwang Drinks The Entire Berkman Coffee Supply For You

Since becoming a newly-minted full time employee of the Berkman Center for Internets and Society, I’ve become obsessed with the fascinatingly ungreen and terrifyingly advanced Keurig brand line of products that dispense coffee from those plastic containers that I can only assume are filled with magical pixie dust. Luckily, Berkman boasts a huge number of flavors, and I figured that it’s obvious for self-enrichment purposes to get around to tasting them all. The copy is reliably awesome, and the flavors virtually (?) indistinguishable. USBFB features our commentary, reviews, and incisive analysis every Tuesday until we’re exhausted. No coffee left behind. Previously: Espresso Blend and Hazelnut.

This week: ITALIAN ROAST. Like most of the Keurig coffee pod offerings, the entire experience of the beverage is authoritatively promised in three capitalized words on the front of the box. ROBUST. SWEET. RICH, it says.

And it’s true. Italian Roast Blend is all these things. And so much more.

Namely, amusing packaging.

The design of the label suggests (non-credibly) that the coffee will carry us on the wings of caffeine to a flavor voyage on the shores of the Adriatic Sea. On either side of the big “ITALIAN ROAST” headline, there are yellowed silhouettes of dudes in gondolas, which I assume suggests that the coffee is Venice-themed. Ah, coffee — just like the Italians do it.

Actually: this ends up meshing a little schizophrenically with the Keurig pods themselves, which reproduce the design, only with a little standarized banner running around the edge of the pod that says “Handcrafted Coffee From The Pacific Northwest”

The Tully’s Coffee brand also introduces a totally great like data graphic of a little flavor spectrum with an arrow that points out where the beverage lies in the cosmology of coffee. Bizarrely, this little slider seems to suggest, that A) “Spirited” is the opposite of “Grand” as far as coffee goes, and B) out of the set of “Grand” things, the grandest thing is “Extra Bold.” And this is what Italian Roast is.

There is a word for this: insane.

Going off the accepted wine-tasting standards, it turns out that Italian Roast is not the xtreme extra bold adventure that it’s cracked out to be. Which just goes to show that you can’t believe everything that you read. That being said, it’s a respectable and funky offering for the stylish career man or woman on the go. I am aware of the rules of the office, putting that pod into the machine seems to say, but am edgy enough to go on a flavor voyage during work hours. The taste is soft, buttery almost, resolving from a light burnt oaky flavor to a bolder bitterness. It drinks great hot or cold.

The fragrance is another big bonus. It’s strong, to be sure, but Italian Roast is a bouquet of heavy, bracing scents — I can’t tell what it is. But it is robust, sweet, and rich.

The color is lighter than what we’ve seen before. Sure, it’s brown. Or brownish black. I don’t know — it looks like coffee. And I’m still debating whether or not it’s just that the Keurig machine is broken, but there’s some suggestion of yellow at the edges, and you can see the chunky coffee sediment swirling around at the bottom. This part is kind of gross.

The best feature of Tully Italian Roast is the finish. The impending coffee breath resolves into a harmless smokiness that dies out after an hour or so, leaving you fresh and ready for your next delicious cup.

Rating: B+, while it isn’t the best we’ve tasted — Italian Roast still kind of makes me feel like a young lad in a gondola. From the Pacific Northwest.

Comments (View)
Mon Oct 20

Free Culture 2008: After The Party

Been thinking and rethinking this post for about a week now, waiting and watching how the emerging front has been developing as the SFC reps have gone home. I blogged previously on the USBFB about the worries about the upcoming national conference, so figured it was only appropriate to put together some kind of wrap-up. Besides, reading and re-reading the remarkable product offerings in Sky Mall on the flight back from San Francisco gets boring around hour number four.

October 12th, 2008 — it turns out, would be an unprecedented, out-of-control day in the history of Free Culture. No wars got concluded, we didn’t radically decide to kidnap RIAA representatives, Lessig didn’t get into a fistfight with anyone. In fact, it was a pretty boring, hot late summer day in San Francisco. I had a headache. I sat outside and gossiped with Christina. I pulled a ROFLCopter in the hallway. I smoked a cigarette with the FC-Berkeley folks. Protip: I have discovered that this will give you a bigger headache.

But it was remarkable nonetheless. What happened was simple: representatives of Students For Free Culture chapters from around the world got into a room with one another. And, then they agreed with one another. No kid. They agreed. Kevin Driscoll deserves a special place in Free Culture history for being the steady hand on the tiller for moderating the session.

And then, honest to god: Students For Free Culture signed an agreement affirming a non-exclusive Free Culture agenda in the next 12 months.

What they agreed on was the Wheeler Declaration — and it says this:

An open university is one in which:
1. the research the university produces is open access

2. the course materials are open educational resources

3. the university embraces free software and open standards

4. if the university holds patents, it readily licenses them for free software, essential medicines, and the public good

5. the university network reflects the open nature of the internet

where “university” includes all parts of the community: students, faculty, administration.

This simple action is amazing on several levels. First, of course, is that some consensus was achieved at all. Never has the group been so together.

But more importantly, it’s also a huge shift away from what Free Culture is. True to the “Student” name, SFC remains focused on the University and changing how it works. We’re not charging out to fight the Net Neutrality battle against lobbyists in Washington, and fair use in music is faded here as a major issue in the next 12 months.

(N.B.: on the ongoing “student” thing — from the conference, it’s clear to me that the swirling politics around a broader 501c3 foundation continue to evolve among four credible, ambitious contenders in New York, San Francisco, Seattle and Boston — and the alliance-building/competition is on. Post to follow on USBFB commenting on these folks)

However, while the school setting remains the focus — the tired agenda of being “just kids who want to download illegally” is gone. The narrow inward-looking idea of activism to change the consumer lives of kids going to schools like some kiddie-corral student government is receding into the foreground in the Wheeler. It’s been replaced by activism for promoting real changes in the outward relationship of the university to the broader world. There’s a real social justice agenda here. Development, broader availability of educational resources, and anti-filtering all make appearances. It’s clear that this is the new focus — and that’s great: screw complaining about whether you can download this or that on the iPhone, it’s been time to work on more important things for awhile.

This agenda is also the end of an era on how Free Culture approaches activism more generally. Free Culture doesn’t seem to be making the grasp for an absolute ideological consensus a top priority anymore: as a group, it seems we’re tired about the ceaseless ideological conflicts that have blocked constructive action for years. The sense of the conference was action-centered, mostly concerned with looking for real targets to act on, as Lessig suggested, “to pick fights.” So for the time being, it looks like the word of the day is pragmatism. We’re more interested in what common ground for action exists than defining what Free Culture is and how it applies in every case. The Wheeler Declaration reflects this: it’s a statement of values in the sense that it affirms the Open University, but it’s framed humbly and tightly around action and the goals that are worth achieving. This rebuilds Free Culture as an alliance, and not an ideological movement: we don’t have a Stallman-esque absoluteness of meaning across all issues, but are willing to come together as independent entities to attack mutually accepted aims and share a looser, more general understanding of common values on openess.

Words aren’t action, of course. The statement by itself doesn’t mean anything. But the culture of Free Culture seems to be changing in this direction in the weeks after the conference. After a worrisome debate on the national list that recalls the Bad Old Days of Crosbie Fitch — the name “Open University Campaign” came under fire on the usual “free” versus “open” contest. But, ultimately, a slew of e-mails later, the consensus was, who cares? We need to make the name of the campaign understandable, and people are willing to get down to work to do things and defer the semantic (mostly cosmetic) quibbling of naming to the board.

Only the coming months will tell, but for the time being, it looks like Free Culture has bought itself some more time.

(photo courtesy Christina, CC BY SA)

Comments (View)
Tue Oct 14

Greetings From San Francisco!

If you’re a USBFB regular, you’ve probably noticed irregularities in posting over the last week. Our DC and Boston-based offices would normally be open to hear your petitions, but unfortunately the Commissioner and staff are out on a high-level junket to San Francisco until October 19th to attend the amazing National Free Culture Conference (post to follow), have clandestine meetings, and initiate New Security Maneuvers.

As a result, expect that our normally scheduled programming will see some delays throughout the week (though, having seen it on the plane between a well dressed businessman and a stressed out med student — the most recent installment of Land Before Time is absolutely epic). All questions, concerns, and complaints can be filed with our Department of Communications at tim AT fabulousbitches DOT org.

(photo by Christina — CC BY SA)

Comments (View)
Comments (View)
Sat Oct 11
Comments (View)